Possession
by Netrixie
Summary: 'I know, without needing to think about it, that he is beyond annoyed with me. Though what for, I cannot fathom. Perhaps just for being me.' SSHP. Snarry. Slash.
1. Possession

**Disclaimer:** No. These characters are not mine, though I can hardly say I'm the only one who wants them to be entangled in more situations like this one *leer*

**Beta: **Not this time, sorry.

**Title: Possession**

**Summary: **'I know, without needing to think about it, that he is beyond annoyed with me. Though what for, I cannot fathom. Perhaps just for being me.' SSHP. Snarry. Slash.

**Dedication:**

HAPPY (belated) BIRTHDAY whatsernameuk! I wanted to get it _just_ right, and this is what I can out with. XD Hope you like!

* * *

I can hardly breathe as I stare at the ceiling. Too many emotions swirl through me, too many thoughts that I cannot control. Too many days have gone past where I have been too alone with myself- in their need to help me, my friends have inadvertently done the opposite.

And I can bear no more of this. I gingerly ease my way out of the bed, and freeze as Ron snorts and shifts in his sleep. But he settles back down and I continue on my way. The house is quiet, but the minor challenge of walking about unnoticed keeps my mind occupied and centered.

There is no plan to where I am going- all I needed was to _move_, to free myself of the confines of that room and those people and their unconscious expectations. Although they slept their hopes and fears and dreams hammered me, bruising my already fragile control and threatening to fracture it altogether.

I sneak out of the Weasley's house and straighten with a sigh of relief. The darkness of the night is a balm to my flighty soul, and I head to the broom shed determinedly. Flying was always a good choice to distract me from unnerving thoughts.

But as I reach the door a figure appears out of the night and blocks me. Startled, I gasp and back up, even as my mind registers familiarity with the tall, thin man.

"Scared, Potter?" that silky voice asks contemptuously from the shadows of the shed, but the relief I feel at his presence overwhelms any anger I might otherwise have felt.

"You just startled me, sir." I reply, and it's nothing other than the truth. But… "Why are you here? I thought the meeting wasn't until tomorrow." Suspicion nags at me as Snape takes his time responding.

"Dumbledore _insisted _that I arrive early." Snape's snort eloquently expresses his feelings on the matter, and privately I agree. He continues. "And so I arrive in the middle of the night, foolishly hoping that my arrival would go unnoticed." He glares at me, his eyebrows drawn together in a menacing scowl. "Of course _you_ would spoil that hope."

I shrug. It is too late- or early- to bother starting a fight with him. We stand there for a little while, not speaking- just there, and with nothing better to do my mind reverts back to the thoughts that had originally drawn me from my bed.

In three weeks school will start again, and I will be in my Seventh Year. I will have to pass exams, and destroy Horcrux's, and eventually kill Voldemort. I will have to continue to fight with Malfoy, though we have become great friends over the summer. All of the other minute details that plague my thoughts every waking day- and many sleepless nights- return to me, and I stiffen as the worries begin to overwhelm me.

"Potter," Snape's voice snaps me back to the present, and I stare at him in question as I try to mask my relief at his interruption of my thoughts.. "Stop thinking so loudly." His glower sends chills down my spine. "I thought that I had at least taught you _that _much of Occulmency."

I sigh, and at the sound Snape steps out of the concealing shadows. For the first time since his arrival I see all of him, and I cannot look away. His clothes are black- how could they not be?- but they were not his usual robes. He notices my gaze, and his eyes shutter as he registers where my attention is focused.

But he ignores my perusal of him after that and studies me- my expression, my posture, I do not know. But a frown appears on his face, and he purses his lips.

"What have you done to yourself, Potter?" he snaps peevishly, and I heave another sigh before I respond.

"Nothing, I think. Or at least, I don't think so." But those damned thoughts are invading my mind again, and I don't pay as much attention to his reaction to my words as I should. I see his lips purse once more, and his arms cross before him. And I know, without needing to think about it, that he is beyond annoyed with me. Though what for, I cannot fathom. Perhaps just for being me.

But those are foolish thoughts- the same nonsensical ideas that have drifted through my skull for the past month are beginning to alter things I _know _have not changed. Snape- though he undoubtedly resents my existence- would never hurt me. He has always been there for me. He has always protected me.

I shake my head to clear it of those thoughts, and turn back to my Professor. His expression is unreadable, his face completely smooth and still. I hunch my shoulders and shove my hands in my pockets, suddenly aware of the chill breeze and the thinness of my pajamas. I should be getting back inside- most likely someone has woken and noticed my absence.

"Of all the foolish-" Snape starts to say, his voice pure venom, before he cuts himself off. I watch him, watch his stiff movements that indicate his displeasure, and wonder what I had done this time. His wand is suddenly in his hand, whirling in a complicated motion I have yet to learn, and a cloak appears in his hand.

He is muttering under his breath, cursing my stupidity no doubt, and comes towards me to swing the cloak over my shoulders and clasping it shut. I feel my heart stutter in my chest at his proximity, and turn my suddenly blazing face away from him, waiting for him to move.

But he doesn't leave- he stays in front of me, hands resting on the clasp of the cloak, and I can feel his eyes boring into the side of my head. Maybe that is why I turn to face him once more- the feel of his eyes burning into me more of a distraction then facing him. Whatever the reason my head slowly swings around until I am looking at him, looking up at him through my lashes, meeting his onyx gaze with my own emerald eyes.

I can read nothing from his stare, though I know he can read my every thought on my face- or from my mind itself. I had been too busy this past year to keep up on my Occulmency, and my skills are not what they once were. Not that I was even that good to begin with.

But thoughts like that fade away as he continues to stare at me, and deep down inside myself I feel something start to wake up. Something I have not felt in a long, long time. It pushes the inconsequential thoughts from my mind and replaces them with itself, and as it begins to expand I recognise it.

Desire.

I have not felt physical desire in more time than I cared to contemplate. Though I am young- only days past seventeen- I know the shape, the texture, the feel of this as it slithers through me and fills in the empty gaps. Snape is staring at me, and his hands seem to move of their own accord to my shoulders.

"Stop thinking," he whispers softly, and one long fingered hand slides over my shoulders to the base of my neck and cradles my head. I try to obey, but my mind is full of him and his presence and his scent that I can suddenly smell- cinnamon and ink- and my mouth waters.

The fingers at the base of my neck flex, and I tip my head back at the slight pressure. I wonder what he is going to do- will he leave me here? Will he step back and laugh at the fool he has made of me? Will he-

Thin, warm lips cut off my train of thought as abruptly as a power-outage. A soft gasp escapes my throat in surprise, and Snape seems to delight in that. His lips caress mine gently- a word I had never once thought to use in conjunction with the Potions Master.

"Shhh…" he hisses against my lips, and I shiver from the sheer sensuality of the act. "Do not think about it." He captures my lips again before I can reply, but I don't care. His tongue is tracing the outline of my lips, and his teeth latch onto my bottom lip, biting softly before sucking it into his mouth. I moan, and press against him as he releases my lip with a soft _pop_. My hands fist in his shirt, and he pulls me even closer.

There is nothing I can do against this assault, but I do not want to stop it. Snape traces the seam of my lips once, twice, again, and I understand what he wants. With a breath, I open my mouth to him and he enters, his tongue meeting and twining with mine. I stumble against him, pulling him closer as his taste invades my mouth and leaves me weak at the knees.

He holds me tight as his tongue explores, tracing patterns on my teeth and tasting my cheeks and licking my tongue. Fire rushes through my blood at this- I have never been so thoroughly kissed before in my life. With reluctance I pull away, panting for air, and stare at him. I wonder what I look like, freshly kissed, but knowing that however I looked was enough for Snape.

He drags me into the shadows of the broom shed and forces me up against the wall, capturing both my wrists with one hand and wrapping the other around my waist. He claims my mouth again and I let him, enjoying the sensation and trying to wriggle closer to him. Time becomes unimportant, measured only by how many times we separate for air.

I feel refreshed- alive- as Snape plunders my willing mouth, and I moan in appreciation. Snape stops at the sound, and I stare at him, wondering what was wrong. But he was not looking at me as though I was causing a problem- no. Just the opposite.

For a moment I hesitated, wondering how far this was going to go. But for once in my life I set my thoughts and fears and worries to the side, and just revel in the moment.

Something that I have rarely- if ever- done.

When I present my lips to Snape for another kiss, he seems to understand my internal decision. He meets me kiss for kiss, and as I free my hands and they begin to roam his body feverishly, he presses me even closer to the wall. His hands, too, are exploring, sliding under my shirt and trailing burning paths where he touches me.

His hands wrap around my waist, lifting me up and encouraging me, and I find to my surprise that he has undone my pajamas. My legs twine around his strong waist, gripping him close to me, and he leaves my mouth to trail hot, blistering kisses along my jaw and my neck. Snape bites down sharply, and I cry out breathlessly in surprise.

His head raises and he looks at me, his pitch-black eyes searing into my soul and searching for something that only he knows.

I rub against him furiously, little helpless whimpers falling from my throat and I am useless against him and he knows it. He brings his hands lower, and I gasp as the heat from his body burns into me, his hands groping my ass through the thin cloth and sending me up in flames.

It is all I can do to breathe, and Snape doesn't help, sliding his hands into the waistband of my pajamas and gripping my naked skin. His breathing is harsh against my neck, and my hands scrabble to gain purchase on his strong shoulders and hold him tight.

The cool night is silent as we writhe against each other, and my eyes water as they stare at the bright moon. Snape is teasing me, the long fingers of one hand rubbing gentle circles in an area that has never been touched, and the other pushing my shirt up to my collarbone, revealing my chest, and he is biting and licking my nipples and I feel like the night is going to explode around me.

I am helpless in his hands- he is holding me up and manipulating me and I have never felt so vulnerable or alive in my short, short life. I want to return some of the favour but he refuses to let me, and I am left to grip his shoulders with my hands and his waist with my legs, mind blotting out from the pure bliss that is overwhelming me.

And before I realize it Snape has left off tormenting my rear to torture my front, and as his hand encloses my straining cock I let out another breathless cry. I buck against him, the radical sensation of _someone else_ touching me there almost too much to take, but he holds me steady in his sure, strong grip. My head arches back until the wall of the shed is bruising the top of my head, and my eyes stare sightless at the far stars.

The night is filled with my sounds- moans and whimpers and harsh little panting breaths that I would be ashamed of in any other situation- but Snape is silent. I can only hear his harsh breathing in my ear- and though to me it is as loud as a steam engine I know it is not.

He lets go of my cock, and I let my head drop back to stare at him in question. But he carefully juggles me, holding me tightly to him with one arm and reaching with the other. His free hand catches the waistband of my pajamas, and I feel a chill race down my spine as he works the cloth past my ass and leaves me revealed to the world.

Snape's free hand slides between us, and I know what he is going to do and I am angry. _I_ want to free him- _I_ want to see what he looks like and _I_ want to hold him and feel him and memorize him. He starts as I grab his wrist, his coal-black eyes looking at me in question, but I ignore him and remove his hand from his trousers.

Those onyx eyes begin to burn into me as I fumble with the catch of his pants, but he returns his hands to my waist and hoists me a little further into the air. I am grateful for the bit of extra room, and in a short while his trousers are undone and I am reaching into them, breathing fast and shallow, wondering what he will be like.

His cock is thick and heavy in my hand, and as I release it from its confines the length of it astounds me. Snape is breathing as heavily as I am, and my hand trembles as it holds another man's cock for the first time. But I swallow the irrational surge of fear the action brings, and wrap my hand around the base of his long cock, stroking gently.

Snape's head thunks onto my shoulder at the motion, and he squeezes me closer to him, and all of my sudden doubts and fears fade in the surge of triumph I feel as his body begins to shake.

I get more and more adventurous, and I hold him a little harder and move a little faster than I have yet to do, and Snape stiffens. He grabs my wrist this time, to halt me, and pushes it out of the way. I feel the whisper of his lips against my skin, and I gasp as my entire body abruptly relaxes.

But he shifts me once more in his arms, and for a moment I can see his long, thick cock standing proudly at attention, before he lowers me down. Slowly. And my blood seems to boil as the hard smoothness of his cock strokes me gently before finding my hole and pushing against it. My back flexes at the intimate, strange feeling and I grab Snape even closer, my hands running up and down his back as the inexorable motion goes on and on and _on._

For a moment I think that it will never stop, that he'll never be inside me, but the pleasure and the slight pain are making thinking impossible and I am about to cry at that realization. My hands find the edge of Snape's shirt and slid under, and he stiffens at the feel of my hands on his back, gripping his skin with desperate, greedy need, and he plunges the rest of the way inside me.

I cry out at the abrupt motion, my head snapping back at the sudden flare of pain, and Snape's hands are caressing me, his lips finding mine and swallowing the whimpers that are dripping from my throat.

The pain is excruciating, and the wall of the shed is bruising and scraping my back, and I can hardly breathe through it and the kiss. But it is fading, and as Snape shifts his body restlessly it is gone and the pleasure is _intoxicating_, and I whine around his tongue and _thank Merlin _he understands me.

He pulls out until he is barely inside me, and slams back in, and I can barely breathe because there is nothing this side of heaven that should make me feel this good, and he is the center of my universe and I cannot live without him.

I claw at his back as he repeats the action, again and again and _again,_ and I think that I must have died and gone to Paradise. Snape releases me from the kiss and buries his face between my shoulder and my neck, biting me as hard as he can as I rake my nails along his back.

But Snape moves faster and faster, and I try to help even though I don't know what I'm doing, and ecstasy is _right there _and if he would just go faster or harder or bite me or _something_ then I could race off the cliff and explode into eternity and Snape seems to know what I need.

He frees one hand from gripping my waist and wraps it around my cock and pumps in time with his thrusts, pulling away from my neck and staring at me with eyes like chips of obsidian and my own eyes squeeze shut at the sight because it is- _he _is- too much.

Time passes in seconds and years and I can feel the end coming. My eyes open in shock as Snape drags his nails down my cock, the sensation doubled and tripled beyond what it should be as he forces himself inside me once again and the world explodes behind my eyes.

My scream is muffled by his shoulder, my teeth sinking deep into his skin as pleasure I have never felt before seizes my muscles and stiffens my body. I can see stars through the rapturous haze that fills my mind, and my teeth release Snape as my muscles turn to liquid.

I open my eyes lazily, enjoying the feel of Snape's muscles contracting as he continues towards his goal. My lethargic hand reaches out to his chest and with barely a touch from me he explodes.

And it is fascinating.

His grip on me tightens as his entire body stiffens, and his eyes shut briefly through the pleasure. A small, almost unheard breath escapes his lips, and I find myself smiling stupidly at it. But the moment passes almost immediately and Snape's eyes are once again open and staring at me, taking in my smile and processing the meaning of it.

He claims my lips in a dominating kiss, though I barely have the energy to return it. But Snape has taken possession of all of me, and I have let him.

* * *

The morning light disturbs my sleep, and I frown even as I wake up. Was it all a dream? How did I get back into my bed if it wasn't?

But Ron's gasp when I sit up has me turning to him, and his wide eyes make me look down at myself, hand unconsciously coming up to my neck to cover the bruising I feel there. But that wasn't the cause of Ron's gasp, and I smile as I run my hand down my side.

Expensive black silk covers me, the top falling off of my shoulder and the bottoms just a touch too long, and my smile turns secretive. I remember this- Snape caustically declaring my old pajamas too 'filthy' to use and dressing me in these. But his possessive eyes had denied the harshness of his words, and I had agreed with him.

Ron's voice interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to look back at him.

"Blimey! Where'd you get those, Harry? They must have cost a fortune." His voice was admiring, and a little bit jealous, and I choose my words wisely. He is always sensitive when it comes to deliberate displays of wealth.

"They were a birthday gift from a dear friend," I explain, wanting to smile as the lie sort of makes sense. But Ron accepts it and gets out of bed, and we go downstairs for breakfast, still in our pajamas as tradition dictates.

The table was already full- Hermione and Ginny and the twins and the other members of the Weasley family are expected, as are McGonagall and Dumbledore and Remus and Tonks. But no one looks happy to see Snape sitting stiffly in the corner, and I carefully look away from him.

As I sit at the table with my full plate, between Fred and George, something makes me look over to Snape. For a brief moment, our eyes meet, and an electric thrill races down my spine at the contact. His inky eyes drink in my outfit and the hickey I had charmed to be visible only to him, and they flare possessively. He shifts as though his back pains him, and I inhale suddenly as I realize he hasn't healed the marks my nails made on him last night. His eyes are dark, promising, and I take a trembling breath as he continues to stare.

With a shiver, I look away, knowing sure as anything that Snape was never, ever going to let me go.

And I was perfectly fine with that.

* * *

_Right then. Another experiment with First Person- please forgive my various gross grammatical mistakes with my tenses. We have issues (angry face) Otherwise, please feel free to review- I'm pretty happy with the way it turned out, but I'll love your input till the end of time, dear reviewers. XD_

_Thanks_

_Netrixie_


	2. Intentions

**Disclaimer: **No. Obviously I am not J. K. Rowling. Do you see _her_ characters doing what I've made these guys do (and I'm not saying that they're not enjoying it XD)?

**Beta: **Not this time, sorry.

**Title: **Intentions

**Authours Note: **Stick with me long enough, and eventually everything gets a sequel… some quicker than others, obviously.

**Chapter Quote: **'I bite the corner of my lip, and glance up at Snape, wondering… But no. Of course not. How silly.' SSHP. Snarry. Slash.

* * *

"Detention, Potter."

Those words ring in my head for the rest of the day.

What had I done to deserve it this time, I wondered, shrugging as Hermione shakes her head at me for not eating. But I can't help but worry- I'm not aware of having done anything wrong- although, admittedly, Snape usually never has a reason for assigning detention.

And that was the other reason my food was being pushed around my plate.

Snape.

We hadn't spoken outside of class since that… night… at the Weasley's, and even in class nothing had changed. Not that I seriously expected it to… well, not much at any rate. I still blush whenever I think of what happened- I am now, in fact, as Ron has just helpfully pointed out.

I scowl at my friend, and duck my head to hide my face, even as my thoughts travel back to that night.

I still wear the pajamas Snape gave me… maybe in the hopes that he'll someday find out that I still have them. I know they were his before he gave them to me- his scent was all over them- and even as I admit the folly of my actions I wear them to bed every night and hope.

But nothing ever happens.

And I am a fool for wanting something more from him. I was probably a means to a release, and nothing more, as I probably imagined his intentions towards me the next morning.

But still, I hope.

Its because of that that I don't know why Hermione has scolded me since the beginning of school- _before_ the beginning of school- for 'leading Ginny on'. But I'm not! I have never said anything since meeting Ron's sister that would indicate a willingness for a relationship. I don't _think_….

Though apparently Hermione believes I must have, since Ginny doesn't leave me alone.

"Harry!" Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear. I turn to face the youngest Weasley, and try to smile in greeting.

"Hey, Gin. What's up?" Inside I am shaking my head in exasperation- doesn't she know I want to be left alone? Why am I so polite? I stifle a sigh before it emerges, and try to pay attention to the other Gryffindor.

"So… I was wondering if you wanted to go flying with me tonight, Harry." My blood runs cold at the thought of being alone with Ginny- even a thousand feet in the air- and I barely manage to mask my dismay.

"Oh, I'm sorry Ginny." My voice is as regretful as possible- I hate to do this but she _does_ deserve to be treated with respect, no matter how I feel about her. "I have detention with Snape after dinner."

We both look up at the Staff Table reflexively and peek at Snape. I don't know how he knew we were looking, but the Potions Master turns his black gaze on us and stares. I feel chills go down my spine, and turn away hurriedly as Ginny does the same.

"Well, that sucks." She shrugs, and I return the gesture and try to smile. Ginny reaches out and pats my shoulder in sympathy before turning and going back to her friends. I _do _let out the sigh this time, when I turn back to Hermione and Ron I notice their faces.

"What?" I ask defensively, and Ron breaks out in laughter. I frown at him for a moment before turning to Hermione for clarification, and she shakes her head at me.

"You've got so much to learn about girls, Harry," she informs me, and I smile, and shrug, and go back to my dinner even as a thought makes itself known- _I don't _want_ to learn about girls._

The thought startles me, and I look over my shoulder once more towards the Staff Table. Snape is still staring at me, and my chills return in force.

* * *

The dungeons are even more foreboding after classes are over, I remember as I make my way back to the Potions Classroom, running a few minutes early for my detention. The last thing I want to do I piss Snape off even more than I already have. At least it's a Friday. Maybe he'll let me out early.

I loiter outside the door until my battered watch says it's a minute till eight, then I knock. For a moment there is silence, and I start to hope that Snape isn't there, but a dark voice shatters that hope.

"Enter."

I take a breath, then push the door open and creep around it until I'm inside the classroom. Snape is at his desk, marking papers, and I close the door behind me before going to stand in front of him. He takes a while to notice me, his quill flashing across the parchments spread across the desk, leaving red lines in its wake.

The quill makes its final correction, and Snape carefully places it in its holder, and caps the inkwell before folding his hands and facing me.

The silence is oppressive, and I shift my weight uneasily as he prolongs it. His eyes bore into me, the dark orbs shadowed by the flickering light of the torches, and I cannot look away. They peer into my soul, and my breath begins to come faster as they stare even further and further inside me, and I cannot look away and…

Snape gestures to a desk in the front row with his wand- _where was it? How did I not see it?- _and I am released from the spell of his eyes, and a potions kit appears.

"You will remake the potion you failed to turn in in class today." That dark, silky voice has haunted my dreams since that summer night and I turn my back to Snape as I walk to the desk, hoping to calm myself before he notices anything. "You have forty minutes."

I drop my bag to the floor as I get to the desk, and stare at the ingredients in confusion. That's not what they looked like in class…

"I suggest you begin soon, Potter." I look up, startled, and Snape's onyx eyes are staring at me. "You would not want to fail for a second time." His threat made, the Potions Master returns to his grading and leaves me in peace.

Or as much peace as I can have, here, in this place, with him a bare ten feet distant.

Merlin preserve me.

* * *

It takes thirty minutes for me to finish the potion.

I cannot quite believe it, but I calculated the hourglass precisely and I still have ten minutes remaining. I frown at the bubbling cauldron, then the remains of the potions kit, before shaking my head. The ingredients were indeed different- better quality, I would say, since I didn't struggle as much with them as I had in class.

But why-?

I bite the corner of my lip, and glance up at Snape, wondering… But no. Of course not. How silly.

"I see you are done, Potter." How he can always manage to startle me, even though I'm looking right at him, will never cease to amaze me. As I try to calm my heart down yet again- though this time for a vastly different reason- I answer.

"Yes, sir." I pause, uncertain, but add anyway, "it seemed like the ingredients were a bit different…." I trail off at the sideways glare I am suddenly receiving, and back away from the desk as Snape stands to check my potion.

"Most likely it is that now you are not distracted by the idiots in your House," Snape says, ignoring me for my potion otherwise, "and thus you do not make foolish mistakes." I flush instantly, but my brain is trying to decipher the comment. Was that a compliment I heard in there…? I shake my head to forget about it, and shrug, watching Snape.

He leans over the cauldron, observing the pale purple liquid with critical obsidian eyes, and frowns. I frown in response, automatically thinking that I have done something wrong- again- and watch as a long, elegant finger skims the top and comes away with a drop of the potion.

I am mesmerized- how can Snape judge a potion based solely on color, taste, and smell? It is fascinating to me- something I cannot do that he does with such regularity, as though such a skill were commonplace. The tip of his finger meets the tip of his tongue, and the drop of my potion is now in his mouth, and for some reason I cannot breathe.

He rolls his tongue through his mouth, tasting the contours and textures of the potion that I've made, and a brow lifts in surprise. He glances over to me, and I hide the fact that I cannot breathe by biting my lip and staring at him uncertainly.

Snape looks back to the potion for a split second, and I take the opportunity to inhale before he looks back at me.

"Amazing, Potter." His voice is dry and sarcastic, and my heart panics for a moment. "It seems that you _have_ indeed managed to brew a proper Warming Potion." He wipes his hand fastidiously on a handkerchief he has pulled from a pocket before waving his wand over the desk.

The entire mess I've made disappears, as does the cauldron and the potion it contained. A vial appears in its stead, and Snape takes it in his hand carefully, and walks over to a cabinet on the wall.

I stand there, confused. This has never happened before in any detention I've had with him- I've never gotten a potion so completely right that it was stored in that cabinet. I have no idea what to do, so I stand there.

Snape arranges his potions to his liking- taking his time, I think- before turning back to me. Silence descends over the classroom, and as before I shift nervously. I can't help it.

He studies me, his jet-black eyes wandering over my robe-clad form, divulging none of what he is thinking. Again it's getting hard for me to breathe, and my mind is running in a thousand differing circles, and I am watching him- and he is moving towards me. My breath catches in my throat as he glides across the room to stand in front of me, and my eyes lift towards his.

Snape's eyes are intense- more intense than a detention calls for- and my thoughts begin to run rampant through my skull. He stops a bare foot from me. For a moment, we are absolutely still.

"Tell me what you are thinking, Potter." His dark voice surprises me, but the words even more so. This is Snape- he could look into my mind and know instantly every thought I've had for the past hour- and yet he _asks me to tell him_. From him, this is the utmost courtesy.

"I'm thinking of summer…" I manage, and swallow as his mouth presses into a thin, hard line. "…and broom sheds…" my voice trails off into a whisper, and I look away. His hand raises, and I flinch as he cups my chin, bringing me around to look him in the eyes again.

"What else?" Snape asks, his voice low and dark and the only thing going through my mind is the wish for a repeat of the last time we were this close.

"…you…" I breathe, and shut my eyes, mortified. Why did I say that? There's no possible way this can end well for me. I wait for the fallout of my statement.

But yet… nothing happens.

Time passes, and my eyes begin to open slowly, seemingly of their own accord. Snape is just watching me- I cannot read his expression- but he has not moved. We have not moved. Those pitch-black eyes search mine, and I am struck by deja-vu. It seems inevitable that he should be moving closer to me. And he is, and his hand is clutching my chin too tightly and it should hurt, but I can't feel it.

His lips are soft- softer than I remember them - and gentle, just as I remember.

Gentle.

Such an odd word for the Potions Master of Hogwarts. He pulls away, and it hurts to let him leave. I try to stop him but he manages, and rests his forehead against mine. His thumb caresses my jaw, and somehow I am pressed against him, fists clenched in his robes.

"Potter-" Snape begins, and I frown up at him.

"Harry," I interrupt- if we are going to do this then he _will_ call me by name- and Snape studies me in silence. As the time passes I become aware of my position, and I push away from Snape. Or, I try. His free arm is around my waist, holding me to him, and I flush.

"Harry," he begins again, and my heart stutters, and stops for a split second before starting again, twice as fast, "what have I said about thinking?"

"D-don't?" I curse myself silently for the stutter but I couldn't help it. Snape smiles- only slightly- but it is more than I have seen before and I cannot help my reaction. His lips are warm and after only a moment of shock he takes back control of the kiss. He walks me backwards, and I let out a shocked gasp as my knees slam into a desk.

The clatter of inkwells and glass vials lets me know exactly whose desk I am being pressed against, but the tongue invading my mouth and the hands exploring my body are far more interesting at the moment.

Skillful fingers make quick work of my robe, pushing the garment off my shoulders and past my wrists. I free my hands quickly and slide them into his robes, parting the heavy black cloth and grabbing the bottom of his shirt in one motion, pulling it up until it is untucked and my hands are caressing the firm skin of Snape's stomach.

Snape has already unbuttoned my shirt, and it is following the same path as my robe, coming past my shoulders and tangling in my wrists as I struggle to get them free. Snape pulls away from me for a mere moment, glaring at my tangled wrists, and with one jerk the shirt is fluttering to the floor. I gasp in gratefulness, and return my hands to their exploring, and Snape reclaims my mouth.

His tongue is torturing me, mimicking what happened last time, and I am whimpering beneath the onslaught. His hands- his long fingered, elegant hands- reach around me, and slide into the tops of my trousers, and I back out of the kiss for a moment. Panting for breath, I look up at Snape, and his eyes are flaring, black opals that burn where they gaze at me.

I look away, and kick off my shoes, my hands releasing his sides to come undo my belt and trousers. I slide my belt through the loops, and undo my jeans, and in seconds Snape's hands are inside my pants and gripping me close to him. His fingers squeeze my ass hard, and I cry out, breathless, and he smirks at me.

I am pressed fully against him, my chest scraped by his shirt, and I go to work on the buttons while he continues to grope my backside, getting closer and closer to his goal.

A thousand and one buttons! I groan in frustration as my fingers stumble over another tiny knob, and at the sound, Snape mutters under his breath. Instantly the shirt comes open, and I attach myself to the pale, smooth skin in thanks. Snape's head jerks back as I take the skin of his shoulder into my mouth, sucking and biting.

His hands are working, pushing my trousers down past my thighs, and moments later doing the same with my underwear. A sweep of his hand clears the edge of the desk and Snape sets me on it, forcing his way between my legs before I can kick the clothing free. My cock is straining between us but Snape ignores it, and I whimper as his clothing brushes against me torturously.

Snape reclaims my mouth and I arch up to meet him, needing to feel him- needing to taste him _now_. His tongue dances with mine, dominating me easily but allowing me freedom, and I moan into his mouth at the taste, touch, _feel_ of him pressing against me _everywhere._

It is amazing.

I barely feel the whisper of a spell against my lips as Snape brings his hands back down to my ass, but I feel its effects. And I feel Snape pushing me down against the top of the desk, and I feel a book dig into my spine before I nudge it out of the way, and I feel fingers caressing me where Snape had only briefly touched, once.

One long finger swirls around my opening and, with barely a warning, slips inside. I cry out at the sensation, and Snape chuckles into my mouth. It is a dark chuckle, a sound more of desire than humour, and it vibrates through me until I am as taut as a drum. His finger- _fingers!_- move within me, and it is like nothing I have felt- different, even, than the feel of his cock when he had me before.

I gaze up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes, all of my senses focused on what Snape is doing to me, but when the wave of pleasure comes I am not ready for it. Snape hisses in triumph, and his fingers rub that one spot again and again and _again_, until it feels like I am going to come right now, and then he_ stops_. I stare up at him, and in the recesses of my mind I realize his shirt is gone, but that's not important to me now.

Snape takes his hands from me, and reach down to unbuckle his belt, his dark as sin eyes staring at me the entire time. I cannot breathe properly- I am taking in gasps and heaves of air, craning my neck to watch. Snape has an expression on his face that I am learning to recognise, and he reaches out and flips me over.

I let out a breath, startled, as my chest hits the desk, and Snape grabs my hips to keep me in place. His thumbs smooth over my skin, and the anticipation is killing me, and with nothing to do I look over my shoulder. And the sight of Severus Snape devouring my body with such _longing_ in his eyes was not what I expected. The sight itself nearly sent me over the edge, and I squeezed my eyes shut to forestall exactly that.

With one long thrust, Snape was inside me. I cried out, shocked at the invasion, and gripped the edge of the desk to restore sanity to myself. He panted in my ear as he waited for me to grow accustomed to him- to his hot, long length inside me, to his bare chest on my back, to the tough material of his trousers scraping my ass. Within moments I am writhing beneath him, trying to get him to move, and he did.

One long, slow slide out, fast hard thrust in. Snape followed that rhythm until it was all I could think about, until it was the entire universe, until I was begging and pleading and twisting under him to get him to go harder and faster and longer. He didn't listen to my pleading- he kept to his own speed, following his own pace, until I thought I was going to explode from sheer frustration, and squeezed my muscles around him.

Snape froze, buried deep inside of me, and I whined at the delay. He grabbed my shoulders and twisted me around till I almost faced him, almost sobbing at the new sensation, and kissed me. He kissed me so hard stars swam in my vision, until I actually couldn't breathe, and then released me. I stared at him, and he stared back, panting.

"Don't do that again," he ground out, and I shuddered as his roughened voice darted along my nerves, "until you're coming."

I licked my lips as he kept staring at me, and nodded. Snape shifted his grip on my hips, and it began again. Better. Faster. I heard my voice shouting, groaning, crying out for more and harder and deeper, I heard Snape's harsh breathing in my ear as he strove to accommodate me. I felt every grain of wood against my nipples, my bare chest. I felt my cocks agony as though there was nothing else as it swung past the edge of the desk from the force of Snape's thrusts.

I lift myself up onto my elbows, and- moving with Snape- reach one hand down between my legs. But before I can grasp onto anything Snape is throwing my hand away, and reaching down himself. I gasp at the feeling, and grab back onto the desk as Snape takes control of everything.

And all I have to do is feel, and there is the world to feel in this classroom, and then I am breaking, exploding, flying and I can feel Snape erupting inside of me, and everything goes black.

When I come to, Snape is pressed against my back, panting in my ear, so I know I have not been that long. But it's embarrassing, anyway, and I'm glad he doesn't know. I am slack against the desk, molded to its contours, completely relaxed. Snape is a heavy weight on my back, but a comforting one, and I relax even further.

For a while, we just breathe.

But as we cool off, Snape begins to get up, placing his hands on either side of my head and lifting himself off of me. I frown at the loss of contact, but there is a soft, almost unfelt pressure at the base of my neck, and I twist to look up at Snape. He is staring at me. I turn over the rest of the way, and sprawl on my back- exposed to him- and wait. Snape's eyes travel down my body slowly, taking in everything, marking me with his eyes, owning me.

My cock gives an interested twitch as he gazes at it, and I see the faint hint of a smile in his eyes before he continues on. I prop myself up on my elbows, watching as Snape memorizes every move I make.

I grin, and rest my weight on one arm. With my free arm I reach out, and snag Snape around the neck. He glares at me, but I can see through it now- I can see the lust and the desire and the animal urges that rule him. I drag him down to my level, and he braces his hands on the desk as I bring him closer.

I put my lips against his ear, and let my teeth graze him as I speak.

"Kiss me," I whisper, and he does.

And I don't get back to the Tower till midnight.

_

* * *

_

Again, my tenses and I have fought a battle of epic proportions over this fic. Freaking First Person Narrative is going to be the DEATH of me. I don't know why I continue to write it... So. I don't quite know what inspired this sequel... so please don't ask.

_Um- there__may possibly be a sequel to this- but this was written while in the haze of DayQuil (I've been horridly sick for the past few days) so while I don't - quite- remember writing this, I do remember it taking forever because I kept falling asleep, lol. Anyway, again, you're thoughts are always welcome, please feel free to review ::coughbothchapterscough:: and thanks for reading. You guys make my sicker-than-a-dog body happier than it has a right to be :)_

_Netrixie_


	3. Deprivation

**Disclaimer:** No. Obviously I am not J. K. Rowling. Do you see _her_ characters doing what I've made these guys do (and I'm not saying that they're not enjoying it XD)?

**Beta: **Not this time, sorry.

**Title: **Deprivation

**Authours Note: **Ahh, the hardships of writing a chapter _sans_ smut. But I hope the flying-scene makes up for it, just a tad. Please feel free to review, more at the bottom.

**Chapter Quote: **"He turns and walks away. I have no choice but to trail after him, my body unconsciously following his orders." SSHP. Snarry. Slash.

* * *

When you've been awake for as long as I have, you cannot fall asleep easily.

It is for that reason that I am sitting in the window of Gryffindor Tower, watching the sun rise, arms around my legs, chin braced on my knee. I stare at the bloody morning, entranced by the sight of the sun rising and staining the earth with scarlet and gold, while indigo shadows race back to the shelter of the Forest. There is so much life, here at half past five, and yet no one sees it but me. Only I am awake at this unseemly hour of the morning.

It is a peculiar thought.

Who would call the rising of the sun and the ending of the night 'unseemly'? It is a magical time, surely, and this is a school of magic. We should be awake and celebrating the arrival of another day, dancing for joy that we have not died in our sleep or been slaughtered by our Enemy. My brow furrows as these thoughts fill my mind- why should I be thinking such things?

I should be the one celebrating life- after all, it is my life that Voldemort wishes to end most of all. And yet here I am, alive, on this glorious day near the end of September, and I only watch the sun rise.

There must be _something _else to do…

Even as that thought ends I am up and moving, changing my clothes, grabbing my broom and Map, and sneaking out of the dormitory. There _is_ something else to do- and now I can do it with no one else to watch- for as I know, no one else is awake.

I could dance for joy.

* * *

The air is crisp and clear, and as I sit astride my broom I can see for miles in every direction. I don't know how high I am- nor do I care. But Hogwarts is a speck on the surface of the earth, and the Forest is a dark stain, and I am as free as I can possibly be.

I know no one understands my need to fly- I was not born in a Wizarding home, I only learned of it when I entered Hogwarts walls. I had no training before that first class with Madame Hooch. Perhaps what McGonagall says is true- perhaps blood does tell- but I care not. Flying is _my _freedom, _my _escape.

And no one can take this from me, not easily.

And though I have tried to free myself from my thoughts they still occupy my mind- crowding to the forefront, trying to control me, all centered on one topic. My body tingles as I recall last night, and for a moment the sky blurs and I am back in the dungeons, trapped under Snape, writhing as he pounds into me. My mouth waters at the thought of his taste, and for a split second I can smell him as the wind whips past my face.

I wonder vaguely what will happen when we meet again- will he ignore me as he did last time? Will he call me to him regularly? And with that my thoughts become dark, somber.

What am I to him? Am I merely a means to an end? I don't think so- don't _want_ to think so- but there is no reason for us to be. No reason for this to have happened- for it to _keep_ happening. No matter how much I might want it.

And how do I know I want it? He is the first- and only- person I have been with. Maybe one day in the future I'll discover that I _do _want to be with Ginny- though it is highly unlikely- or someone else, and what do I do then?

Is what we have even real? We've fucked on two nights, with almost two months between each. That's hardly the basis for any sort of relationship. My hand spasms on the handle of the Firebolt from the force of my thoughts, and I am reminded of where I am. Surely this is not the place to be thinking of such things. Anything could happen.

I watch a flock of birds some distance away, willing myself to leave thoughts of Snape behind me. I came up here to relax. Not have a mental breakdown. I follow the flight pattern of the birds, wondering what they are, where they're going, and as I do so I feel myself calming.

My hand idly guides my Firebolt through the heavens, my body operating almost entirely independent from my mind- I do not need to think about flying. It is all there, inside me.

Waiting to be freed.

And so I give myself to it. My heart begins to beat faster as I angle the broom towards the earth, and as I drop from the sky there is nothing- and no one- to stop me. The rush of the wind against my face is intoxicating, and I lean into the dive as it becomes steeper and steeper. I gladly defy the rules of the game- who is there to see me, anyway?

It is just me, and the wind, and the wide open sky.

The ground rushes to meet me, coming towards me at a dizzying speed. I angle the broom even more, until I am almost entirely vertical, and the Quidditch Pitch begins to come into view. But I am not going fast enough. Though I am falling from the sky I need more. With barely a twitch of my hands the Firebolt is twisting, spinning, and I laugh aloud in sheer joy as the world beneath me begins to spiral.

The wind steals the sound from my mouth, trailing the breathless laugh through my hair and flinging it out into the sky, and between one blink and the next the Pitch is growing and enlarging and I am aimed dead center.

There is nothing but the earth rising up to meet me, and I shut my eyes, playing a game with myself that few dare. I can hear the wind whistling past my ears, tangling my hair, tugging at my clothes and my hands, and I can feel the ground as it seeks to pull me into it. But there is a smell to the dirt that is reaching to embrace me, and I can taste the change in the air and even as I open my eyes I have jerked the Firebolt to the side.

My toes skim the grass as I hurtle off into a different direction, laughing at the thought that I have beaten gravity at his own game. I circle the Pitch at a speed that Madame Hooch calls 'foolhardy' and 'reckless' and forbids us to use during a game or practice, and weave through the stands.

I am going not even a quarter of the speed that I am capable of, though, and before I let my heart slow I pull up into the air, a straight vertical ascent. The Firebolt kicks in, its legendary speed coming to the fore, and I fancy that I can _feel_ the power of the broom vibrating along its length. I go beyond the height of the Castle before stopping, the Firebolt still pointed to the sky, and fall back.

It seems slow, though the rush of the wind as it lets me pass sounds like laughter, the warmth of the broom between my legs feels like a fire, and the blissful realization that I am dropping to the ground faster than ever before makes me smile. There is no resistance as I fall, no care for making sure the broom is facing the right way to rescue me before I become paste, no one to scream in panic because they think I have lost control of the broom.

Only my legs hold the broom to me- my hands have let it go in favour of touching the wind, and I am left staring blindly at the ground as it once again comes clearly into view.

With a slight twist of my legs, I am vertical, hanging upside down from my broom as my hands trail along the ground, my speed barely lessened by my change in direction. With a sigh I flip back over, sitting upright on the broom once more, and as I dart from one end of the field to the other I notice Hermione in the stands.

I glance up at the sun, surprised. Even as studious as she is, Hermione usually sleeps in a bit on the weekend- to the relief of everyone. But Ron is sitting next to her, and so is Ginny and Seamus and Dean, and my curiosity gets the better of me.

Flying over, I brush my hands against my trousers, trying to rid them of the dirt they had collected.

"Why the hell are you all awake?" I demand, "And why are you out here?"

But Hermione looks terrified, and her hand is pressed to her chest. I feel slightly guilty- she must have nearly had a heart attack, if she'd been out here long enough to see some of the stunts I had pulled.

"Are you crazy?" Ginny asks, and I glare at her as she goes on. "You were going to hit the ground!"

I cannot help myself- my voice is as cold as the sky when I answer. "I had no intention of hitting anything, thank you. I _do_ know how to fly." Ginny jerks back at my tone, and I transfer my attention to Seamus before I add anything else I may regret later.

"Nice flying mate. Shame you can't do that during a match." Dean nods in agreement, but is interrupted by a yawn that looks like it is trying to split his face open. I hide my smile at the two of them, and glance back to Hermione.

She is frowning at me, and I guess I am acting a bit odd… but they have interrupted one of the few times I can be myself, and I do not care- just this once- what she thinks.

"Harry," Hermione begins as the others watch, "it's seven o'clock in the morning on a Saturday." Ron shoots me a dirty look, which I return plus interest. It's not _my _fault that his girlfriend dragged his ass out of bed this early. Hermione ignores us and goes on. "We were worried when you didn't show up after your detention, and then we couldn't find you this morning." Her face changes, and now she looks at me worriedly, and I curse internally as her guilt trip begins to work, even against my best intentions.

"We care about you Harry," she adds. "And we wanted to make sure you were safe. And you _were_ flying a bit dangerously-" her expression tells me that she thinks she's understating the whole thing, and I want to laugh. Her fear of flying is legendary in Gryffindor- "and you know how much I worry."

Her words touch me, even as Seamus hides a yawn and Dean rolls his eyes at her speech. Ginny seems to be as serious as Hermione, and I hide my frown at the fact that she is here _at all_. Seam and Dean and Ron, yes- they actually are my friends- but Ginny just wants to get into my pants. She has no real business being here.

"Yea, well, next time I'll leave a note, shall I?" I turn back to Hermione, dismissing Ginny for a moment. Now is probably not the best time to think of her anyway.

"Please, Harry." Hermione pulls a book out of her bag, and sits back. "Now, go play nice with Malfoy, and we'll sit here and make sure you do."

What the- Malfoy? Where? I turn around, even as something gold streaks past my face. Natural instinct honed by years of training take hold of my body, and I snatch it out of the air. The Snitch struggles in my hand, and I stare at it for a moment before looking across the Pitch.

Malfoy is astride his broom, calmly watching me.

"Seekers Game, Potter," he calls out, and gestures to the captured Snitch. "Winner gets bragging rights for a week."

I raise a brow. Aren't we supposed to be fighting, and not playing Quidditch like friends? But I go with it. Besides, Malfoy _knows_ he'll never win. "What's the looser get?"

That familiar smirk emerges, and all of my senses tell me it won't be good. "The winner buys the looser chocolate from Zonko's." I groan. The last thing we need is a Malfoy on a sugar high. But the blond chose his timing well- he knows I haven't flown enough to satisfy me yet, and now he's given me a legitimate chance to keep at it, the wanker.

"You're on," I call out, and toss the Snitch into the air. Knowing Malfoy, he'll have it set to high difficulty, with the Castle, the Lake, and the Forest as boundaries.

Briefly I wonder how long this is going to take. But the wind is calling my name, and Malfoy's smirk is annoying the crap out of me, and I decide not to care.

* * *

It is well past midday by the time I stumbled back into the Tower, Malfoy walking to the dungeons with a smug smirk on his face at the bag of candy he is forced to levitate. I shake my head at the thought of the blond. It took two hours, but I had finally caught the Snitch. Malfoy hadn't protested much- the thought of free chocolate too much for him to turn down- and then we had all trooped to Hogsmeade to get lunch.

Now, I was just tired. I had been tired before Hogsmeade, and now I was about to commit murder if I couldn't sleep for a few hours. But there was Ron, who wanted to talk about the Chudley Cannons, and Seamus, who wanted to talk about what Seeker-moves I could sneak past Hooch, and Hermione, who wanted to know where I had been all night.

Finally it was all too much, and I locked up my purchases and grabbed my Cloak from my trunk. Sneaking out of the Tower was easy after that, and with a sigh of relief I began to wander the halls, looking for somewhere nice and quiet to pass out.

By the time I had remembered about the Room of Requirement, though, my feet had already walked me to the dungeons, and the mere thought of going back up all those flights of stairs was painful. I stopped in a sheltering corner, wondering what was available down here. Someplace that could, preferably, be locked and warded. But nothing came to mind.

With another sigh I turned to trudge back up to the upper parts of the Castle. But a hand on my shoulder stopped me, and I spun around in surprise. I was wearing the Cloak! Who could see me?

But of course I knew who it was, even as I turned.

Snape was staring at me, hand clasped hard on my shoulder, face- as always- unreadable. I pulled the Cloak off my head- I was caught, though really I had done nothing wrong- and stared back. All of the insecurities that I had thought about earlier began to surface, but I fiercely shoved them down.

"What are you doing down here, Potter?" he asked, and his voice sent tremors through my nerves.

"Looking for something, sir." I replied vaguely, dodging the issue. Snape raised a brow at me and I smiled back as innocently as I possibly could. If he knew what I was down here for, there would be no end to the ridicule.

"And to look for this _something_ you decided to wear your father's Cloak?"

For some reason, the question hit me hard. _I am not my father! _I wanted to yell, but settled for frowning. "It's _my_ Cloak now, Professor. I can wear it whenever I want."

Snape said nothing for a long while, his ebon eyes digging into my soul, and I felt chills race up and down my spine. The urge to shift nervously floods my body, but I withstand the temptation. Suddenly the knowledge that we are in an oft-traveled corridor makes itself known, and I sweep the hall with my eyes. Thankfully there are no portraits and fewer ghosts in Slytherin territory, and I turn back to Snape.

His hand tightens on my shoulder- his thumb pressing into my collarbone- before he lets go.

"Put it back on, and follow me." He turns and walks away. I have no choice but to trail after him, my body unconsciously following his orders. He leads me down the hallways until I don't know where I am anymore- Slytherin territory was not my strong point- and when we get to a dead end, he stops.

"Where-" I begin to ask, but he silences me with a look. I swallow the rest of the question as he pulls out his wand. I don't catch the words he says, and his wand is hidden from me by his body, but suddenly there is a door in the wall, and it is opening. Snape walks in but I stay back, wondering where I am, but he turns to face me with an impatient expression and I swallow my irrational fear.

I walk through the door and into sparsely furnished room- one long, low table, a couch, two chairs and a fireplace and another door on the opposite end- and the door shuts firmly behind me. But instead of staying visible as I had expected, it disappears. I suppress the urge to shiver.

Snape is walking through the room with the familiarity that only comes from frequent close contact, and my slow brain suddenly realizes where I am. This must be one of Snape's personal rooms. I take the Cloak off as I absorb the knowledge that Snape has brought me to his private chambers. What does this mean?

He turns towards me and I startle out of my thoughts- I must be more tired than I knew, to have dazed off in his presence. Snape frowns, and though I know I have not done anything wrong part of me recoils from the thought that I have only been brought here as a punishment. Surely not…?

"Sit down, Potter," Snape says, gesturing to the couch, and I go, for who would dare to disobey Snape in his own rooms? He stands in front of the fireplace, gazing at me, and even as I try to stamp down on my thoughts they rise to the surface. I have no doubt that he can read every thought I've had since I went flying this morning.

"Tell me why you were seen in Hogsmeade with Mr. Malfoy today."

Of all the questions I expected to hear, this was not one of them. And so it takes a while before I answer.

"Um, because I lost a bet?" I don't know how else to put it- and it is the truth. Snape looks at me with a faintly disbelieving expression, and I shrug. "We had a Seekers Game, and he lost."

"And that somehow resulted in the obscene amount of candy I caught him with just now?" The tone of Snape's voice more than implies that I am telling a tale, and I flush angrily.

"What's it to you, anyway?" He freezes as I speak, and one eyebrow slowly raises. "It's only candy."

Snape moves faster than a snake, I think, because he is suddenly in front of me. His voice is deep and annoyed when he speaks, but for a moment the only thing I am thinking is that he is barely two feet away.

"You are supposed to be schoolyard rivals, Potter." Snape's voice drips sarcasm, and I flinch from it. "Not 'best mates' who go to Hogsmeade together." I can hear the quotes he has given those two words, and strangely, my anger drains from me. I am able to pick up my head and look him in the eye, and consider what I am seeing in those dark orbs.

My breath hitches as I study his jet-black eyes. There is _so much _of him visible- he never lets anyone close enough to be able to read him like I am now. And I can see emotions floating in his eyes that make my doubts from this morning meaningless. Why is he letting me read him like this? Or maybe he doesn't know what I am seeing…?

But it is impossible, isn't it? Surely I cannot be seeing _jealousy_ spark at me from the fathomless depths of his onyx gaze? And I get the feeling that for once it is he who is trapped within my eyes, and not the other way around.

Snape jerks when I speak, as though the sound of my voice is unexpected.

"We became friends over the summer, Snape." His jaw clenches at my use of his name, but I go on before he can say anything about it. "There is no harm in it. If anything, he can always tell the Death Eaters that he is befriending me now to harm me later." I chuckle softly as that last bit passes my lips- it _was_ something Malfoy would do. But not something I expected him to do. There were layers to Draco Malfoy that no one had guessed at, and I wanted him to be able to be who he wanted to be without fear… at least, some of the time.

Snape broke into my train of thought, and I refocused my gaze on him.

"And the chocolate?" I heard the amusement hidden under the layers of mockery in his voice, and smiled a little.

"That was the payout to the looser." I laughed slightly at Snape's expression, but was interrupted by a yawn. My hand flew up to cover my mouth, but it was one of those whole body yawns you get when you're exceptionally tired, and there was really nothing I could do to hide it.

Snape's eyebrow rose again, and I shrugged. "Got no sleep last night," I admitted with a blush. But Snape merely looked at me, his dark eyes boring into me, and I glanced away. He snorted softly- I almost thought I imagined it until I saw the humour in his eyes- and smirked slightly. But he merely sat in the chair across from me and waved his wand. I watched in disbelief as a pile of unmarked papers appeared, and shook my head incredulously as he began to mark them.

But even as I watched, wondering what his game was, the urge to sleep _now_ was flooding my body full-force. And in the absence of anything better to do, and no snide remarks from Snape, I kicked off my shoes, balled my Cloak under my head, and conjured a fluffy blanket to cover me. The last thing I remember seeing before sleep claimed me was Snape watching me, his inscrutable gaze impossible to read.

_

* * *

_

So, this came out because some of you said in your reviews that you wanted

plot. _Here's my answer to you… lol. No smut now, but oh yes in the next chapter there will be. And my Ginny-bashers out there, be ready to become exceptionally happy in… oh say two or three more chapters. It builds up, and then Harry just snaps on her. Oh, I so love hating Ginny…_

_But here is this installment, look for the next one in a few days, I _am_ working on The Ties That Bind- all evidence to the contrary, yes I know- and please review! Kinda nervous about including plot into this… but don't worry. Smut chapters are fast writes. So chap four should follow indecently soon._

_Netrixie_


	4. Exceptions

**Disclaimer:** No. Obviously I am not J. K. Rowling. Do you see _her_ characters doing what I've made these guys do (and I'm not saying that they're not enjoying it XD)?

**Beta: **Not this time, sorry.

**Title: **Exceptions

**Authours Note: **This is less smutty than I had thought it would be. And please- watch out for the angsty bit in the middle/end.

**Chapter Quote: **"He straightened his robes with a single word, and another fixed his hair. He turned, and opened the door, and left." SSHP. Snarry. Slash.

* * *

I have found that it takes a will of steel to be friends with Hermione and Ron. Oh, that's nothing against them, no. But the sheer amount of fights they get themselves into over the stupidest things imaginable… _that's_ when I am tempted to hurt one- or both- of them.

Such as the fight they are engaged in now. Hermione _knows_ that Ron will- inevitably- never do an essay until the last minute. Ron _knows_ this pisses Hermione off, and does it anyway. And then they fight. Every. Single. Time. Sometimes I think they have a whole list of things to fight about when they get bored… schoolwork being chief among them.

Fed up, I heave a sigh of disgust and stand. Hermione glances up at me curiously, and I frown at her.

"If all you're going to do is bitch at Ron for something he does every time we're assigned a paper, I'm going back to the Tower to study on my own."

I turn and walk away before they can say anything, and as I walk past the rest of the students in the Library studying during lunch I hear them start up again.

"…look what you made him do, Hermione! Now he's going to go off and hide from us because of you!" I cringe as Hermione's reply makes First Years turn around in fascination, and walk a little quicker to place distance between myself and Madame Pince, who is heading their direction. I shake my head at the thought of the fight that will happen when Hermione blames Ron for sullying her reputation with the fierce Librarian, and exit the Library with a sigh of relief.

I have no intention of going back to the Tower. Lunch ends in less than twenty minutes- there is no time to trek all the way to the Common Room before having to come back down for Care of Magical Creatures. But there was only CoMC and Potions left before dinner, even though they were both double periods. Still, I reasoned, only four more hours of class, and then the middle of the week will be well and truly over.

I loved Wednesdays. It was double Potions, CoMC, and Transfiguration, and a single hour of Divination in the morning, but the rest of the week was light work, and after Wednesday everything seemed easier, anyway.

I wandered vaguely in the direction of the Great Hall, wondering if the there was any food left. Hermione had dragged me out of the Hall after I had managed to grab only one sandwich, and my stomach was beginning to ask me why I hadn't eaten more. So when a throat cleared behind me, I almost jumped a foot in the air.

"Should you not be in the Great Hall with the rest of your House?" I turned around as Snape continued speaking, and shifted my bag on my shoulder. "Doubtless they are pining away without your presence."

I grinned at him- something I would never have done before Saturday- and shrugged. "I'm sure they can manage on their own. They get into enough trouble without me."

But Snape didn't respond, and my grin melted away. Had I done something wrong? But he was staring at me, and I looked down at myself self-consciously. Was there a stain? Was I wearing a dirty shirt? But my clothes were normal- robes open, shirt half-tucked in, tie slightly undone. The same way I usually looked, except when McGonagall ranted at us to wear the uniform properly.

My breath huffed out of my chest in an explosion of air. I looked up at Snape in shock as he shoved me into an abandoned classroom, hand clasped around my upper arm to guide me to where he wanted. He pressed me up against the wall before I could even begin to wonder what was going on, and kissed me.

I gasped around his lips, opening my mouth involuntarily to him and he invaded immediately. I moaned at the feel of his tongue plundering my mouth, licking and tasting every inch of me, and I forgot all about asking him what was going on. I craved him, his taste, and I let my bag slide from my shoulders to the floor so I could wrap my arms around him and hold him close.

It had been too long since the last time we had kissed- five days without a taste or touch of Snape made what he was doing to me right now nothing short of bliss. Snape groped my body as his tongue controlled my mouth, hands squeezing my ass and pinching my nipples and cupping my cock. I broke away for air for one moment before attacking his lips again, wrapping my hand around his head and pulling him back to me.

My other hand reached around his waist and slid into the edge of his shirt, and Snape growled into my mouth as I pressed him as close to me as I could. The sound vibrated through me, making me clench my hand at the base of his neck. Snape pulled away and I whimpered at the loss, but his lips burned on the skin of my neck and I gasped, throwing my head back, as he sucked my skin into his mouth.

He bit down hard, his sharp teeth sending tingles of pain through me, and I held his head even harder as he sucked and licked and bit. My legs fell open as Snape shifted his body to free one of his hands, and my breath burned in my throat as my cock met his through our clothing. I jerked my hips against him, wanting to feel _him_ and not this stupid barrier of cloth, and his free hand dropped down to my trousers and slipped inside.

The shock of his cold hand against my already erect flesh made my eyes water in reaction. Snape laved my neck with his tongue- from shoulder to ear- as his hand was busy exploring beneath my belt, urging me to give him more and more access. My legs opened as far as they could as my head tilted to the side, and Snape took advantage of the fact. Small, soft kisses to my jaw, hard, bruising bites to my shoulder, and little shocking nips to my collarbone.

Breathing became nearly impossible as his hand moved up and down my length- gripping hard at the base of my cock and dragging slowly down the head, fingers trailing through the precome that was leaking out of me. Snape put his thumb against the slit and pressed, his other fingers squeezing whatever they were holding. I cried out at the sensation and I felt Snape's lips curve into a smile. But he was killing me- my breath was shuddering in and out of my lungs, and my grip on his hair was so tight my hand hurt.

But Snape kept on teasing me, light touches that were barely there, hard punishing jerks that made my breathing hitch in response. His free hand- which had stayed wrapped around my waist- dropped into the back of my trousers and gripped my ass, hard. I gasped and thrust into the hand around my cock at the same time as Snape bit my ear. He soothed it immediately with a lick, and sucked my earlobe into his mouth.

My head was tilted back as far to the side as it could go- there was too much sensation at the moment- too many things to feel- and as the hand on my ass began to travel lower and lower he swirled his tongue inside the shell of my ear.

I have never felt anything like it- I whimpered as the hot, wet muscle ran along the outside rim, as it tasted each little section of my ear, as it licked every spare centimeter that was available. Snape's breath was loud now- impossibly loud- as he continued to pump my erection in his hand, my precome providing more than adequate lube for the task, and his other hand was playing with my ass, fingers circling around the tiny opening that only he had ever used, and I was forgetting what it meant to breathe as I gasped and whined and whimpered.

But Snape was not done with me, not yet. He wrapped his hand around the base of my cock- gripping hard- and dragged down as he thrust one finger inside of my ass. I jerked and shouted at the doubled pleasure, dislodging Snape from my ear with an annoyed grunt from him. But he reclaimed it, and thrust his tongue _inside my ear_, and his hand wasn't playing with me anymore and his long finger was rubbing something inside me that made me want to scream in ecstasy, and his tongue was mimicking the both of them.

I was done in moments- no one could have withstood what he was doing to me. My hand spasmed on the base of Snape's neck as I came, the other one clutching the firm skin of his waist, and he pressed close to me as I shuddered against him.

I let my head rest against his as I caught my breath, and he stayed still as I recovered. His hand was still stroking me, trailing through my semen, and I felt my cheeks flush as he slowly withdrew his hand from the front of my trousers. His finger slipped out of me next, his hand caressing my bottom before he pulled it out. Snape pressed a kiss under my ear as I shivered in reaction, and muttered a Cleaning Spell.

Snape pulled my face to him by my chin, and I- still lethargic- let him. He studied me for a moment, those dark eyes as black as a moonless night, face as expressionless as I've ever seen. I wonder what I looked like to him, dazing in the afterglow of a truly magnificent orgasm, and shifted my hips against him. His rock-hard erection caught my attention, and my hands moved forward to do something about it.

But he stopped me, and kissed me, effectively cutting off all thought in my brain. When he pulled away I had to refocus on his face, and it was harder than it should have been.

"You need to leave," he said, and the sound of his voice only made me want him even more. He was always so quiet…

"Why?" I wondered, pulling him back to me and stealing another kiss from him. Snape let me, but broke away before I could make anything else out of it.

"You're late to class." He paused, and cocked his head. "Five points from Gryffindor."

Snape released me and I squeaked at the return of control, scrambling to catch myself before I fell. He straightened his robes with a single word, and another fixed his hair. He turned, and opened the door, and left.

I stared at the now-open door to the classroom he had brought us to, and for a moment I was too stunned to think. Anger rose in me as I thought about what he had just done. _What the _fuck_ was that about?_ was my only thought, and the more I thought about it, the angrier I became.

I fixed my clothing roughly, jerking my shirt back in line and wrenching my trousers straight. I cast a basic glamour charm to hide the marks I _knew _he had left on me, grabbed my bag, and stalked into the hallway.

Not to my surprise, it was empty. I glared at the classroom I had just left, and used my magic to slam the door shut. The resounding _BANG!_ echoed through the hall to my satisfaction, and I turned to go to Hagrid's class. Only a half an hour had passed since I had left Hermione and Ron, so I wasn't that late.

Besides, it was Hagrid. It's not like he cared if I was on time.

* * *

By the time Care of Magical Creatures had let out, I was beyond angry. I was so far beyond pissed off that even Hermione- who could usually withstand most of my temper- would not stay near me. I grinned viciously as I imagined a great billowing cloud of pure rage surrounding me, keeping anyone from coming to near.

The nerve of that man! How _dare_ he take points off of my House when it was he who had made me late in the first place! And aside from all of that, I was starving. The one sandwich I had managed to eat had not even lasted the length of the walk to Hagrid's hut. So I was angry, and hungry, and mad as hell.

When we reached the entrance hall of the Castle, I turned away from the group of Gryffindors and Slytherins that were walking to our next class. Hermione called out to me, something along the lines of "Harry you can't be late! This is Professor Snape-" but after she said his name I blanked her out. It was bad enough I had to face him in class now, but on an empty stomach… no.

By the time I had arrived at the kitchens, I was already late to class. We never really had that much time to travel between classes to begin with, and my detour had ensured that I would be much later than everyone. And I was perfectly fine with that.

"Harry Potter, sir! How can we be helping you sir!" I looked down as Dobby popped into existence, and tried to smile for the overly-enthusiastic elf.

"Hey, Dobby. I was wondering if there was any left over food from lunch…" But before I had even finished speaking the other elves were compiling a tray of food that made my stomach grumble loudly.

Dobby smiled happily at the sound, and I followed him to the table they had prepared for me. Pumpkin pie, turkey, cranberry sauce, potatoes, rice and beans, pasta and jello awaited me, and I sat with a sigh of relief.

"Thank you so much Dobby," I said, and dug in. The first mouthful was heavenly- by the time I was done, there was almost no food left on the table. Dobby and another elf I didn't know stood there watching me the whole time, and when I was done eagerly asked me if I wanted any more. But I was perfectly full, and declined.

On my way out, I thanked Dobby again.

"Any thing for Harry Potter, sir! Anything for you! If you need Dobby you just call him!"

"Alright, Dobby, I'll do that. Thanks." And with my stomach as full as it's ever been, I made my way to Potions.

Over a half an hour late.

I wondered what Snape would have to say about _that_.

* * *

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Thank you for finally joining us." Snape's voice was as mockingly sarcastic as he could make it- under other circumstances I would have flushed. But now I just stared at him, and answered with a voice that was as mocking as his.

"You're welcome, Professor." I smirked slightly adding, "it was my _pleasure._"

The class was absolutely silent, their heads swinging back and forth between us like we were some kind of sporting event. I could _hear_ Hermione's thoughts- '_what the hell does that foolish boy think he's doing' _was one, I am sure, but I didn't really care.

Snape was staring at me, his black eyes dark and unreadable as I stood there.

"Take your seat, Potter," he said- it seemed like forever to me, but my heart was beating too fast for me to concentrate- "and see me after class." He began to look away, as if he was done with me, but I wasn't thru with him. Not yet.

"Aren't you going to take any points from me, _Professor_?" The Gryffindor's in the class sucked in a huge, collective breath- I heard it through my thundering heart. _What was I thinking,_ I agonized as Snape's eyes flared in anger. But my own anger came rushing back to the fore, pushing away my gathering fear and glaring at him.

"Ten points for disrespecting a teacher, Potter," he spat my name, and even as I glowered at him my heart clenched. "And twenty for coming to class late." I snorted, and Snape's eyes burned into mine.

"Sit, Potter. We will bring up the subject of your disrespect to the Headmaster after class." He turned away and I sat in my chair, jaw working as I tried not to explode in my fury.

Hermione jabbed me in the side as the others got back to working on the potion that had been assigned- I didn't even bother to start- and hissed in my ear.

"What the hell is wrong with you, Harry James Potter! The school year has barely begun!" I pushed away from her and slumped back in my chair, crossing my arms and staring straight ahead. Snape ignored me, and I him, and the class went on around us.

The following hour and a half was torturously silent- the rest of the class was too terrified of Snape's glower to speak in anything other than a whisper- and I just didn't care to explain my actions to Hermione, despite her insistence. By the time Snape dismissed us I had already planned what I was going to do to get back at him. Ron looked at me as I stayed in my seat- prepared to stay behind with me- but I shook my head at him and he left.

Finally we are alone, and Snape stands from behind his desk. I stay in my seat, and raise a brow, and with a muttered word I have locked us in. He startles as my magic passes through him, warding the door and making it impossible for anyone to disturb us. I uncross my arms and stand, and begin to make my way over to him.

Snape's black eyes follow me as I move closer to him, the darkness in them stealing my anger from me. But not fully. This is something that must be addressed- we cannot act as though nothing has happened between us- and he should _never _have taken points from me for what we had done.

"Dare I ask what made you act think you could act like that without consequences, Potter?" he said as I stopped in front of him. I shrugged.

"Oh, I don't know." Snape raised an incredulous brow at me, and I added, "perhaps it was when you caused me to be late, and then took points from me for it."

Snape snorted, his expression turning to one of amusement. "I have never accepted excuses for being late, Potter. I am not going to start now."

I stare at him in disbelief, and my mouth begins to run without my control. "What? Are you serious?" All of my frustration and anger from before are returning, ruining the plan I had carefully thought out through the long class. "It was _Hagrid!_ He doesn't care if I'm late, for Merlin's sake! I could have walked in five minutes before the end of class and he wouldn't even have noticed!"

Snape waited through my outburst until I had finished, then crossed his arms. "Regardless of how Rubeus may or may not run his class, school rules must be maintained."

And, of all of the other things he had said, that's what took the cake. I could hardly think through my anger- and Snape's eyes widened as I came towards him. There was nothing I could do to control myself. I don't know how, but I had pushed Snape against a wall that was more than ten feet away, and was pinning him to it.

He fought against me, but somehow he couldn't get free. I stared up at him, and was caught- trapped- by the look in his eyes. Those onyx orbs were the only thing that he allowed to show emotion- the rest of his face was completely composed. But his eyes- his eyes… they showed… I thought I saw- something in them that was unexpected, that I shouldn't see…

Severus Snape did not seem to be a man who believed in fear.

But it was there.

And I couldn't stand the sight of it.

I loosened my hands in his robes, and smoothed out the creases. I don't think he was expecting that- his hands came up to my wrists and gripped me tightly. My hands, in turn, rose to his shoulders and rested there, his hold on me loosening as I did nothing to him. His eyes burned into my face, curiosity overrunning what little apprehension had been in his eyes, and for a little while neither of us moved.

And then I kissed him.

His lips were cold under mine, unmoving and uncooperative, and I pulled away after a second, my heart breaking as he ignored me. I let go of him, and my hands dropped to my sides as I walked away. I picked up my bag and canceled the spell I had placed over the classroom. The silence that filled the room was oppressive as I walked to the door, feeling pale and lightheaded as I went.

My hand reached out to open the door, but a long-fingered, pale hand stopped me. I froze, staring at the hand that encircled my wrist, not understanding.

"Harry…" Snape whispered softly, his hand tugging me away from the door and towards him. I went numbly, my arm limp as my body followed it, and Snape pulled me into his embrace. His arm went around me, holding me close, and I just let him. His hand came up to cup my chin, raising me to face him, and when I was looking at him he released me.

His dark eyes were not so dark as he looked at me, and I straightened as much as I could. I began to get a sense that something was changing with us. But I don't know what it was.

He kissed me lightly on the lips- barely a peck to signify that he had done so. I whimpered at the slight touch and raised my lips back to him. He kissed me again, firmer this time, though still nothing compared to our usual demanding kisses, but it was enough. It didn't need to be possessive or challenging. I knew this, and I pulled way from him before anything could change.

One of Snape's hands twined in my hair, and I pressed my cheek against his shoulder. His arm was a comforting warmth around my waist, a strong barrier that kept the real world out and allowed us to just soak up the presence of the other.

I knew this was his apology- just as I knew he would never say those words aloud. We understood each other, in our silence.

"You have to go, Harry," he said, and I twisted my neck to be able to see his face- to see if he was joking. But he wasn't- he was perfectly serious. I pulled away abruptly and grabbed my bag from where I had dropped it on the floor. "Harry," he said, then sighed. "I am not- this is not like before." I stared at him in shock. He explained. "Your friends will ask questions, and I do not know if you are ready to answer them."

I laughed sharply, and shook my head at his expression. "I was in such a bad temper before that they'll probably be scared off if I so much as frown in their direction." Snape raised a brow in disbelief, but accepted it.

I slung my bag over my shoulder, but hesitated before leaving. I looked at Snape with my hand on the door, ready to open it. His face was blank, even his eyes were shuttered, and I could not bear the sight. I reached out and grabbed him, pulling him down to me and kissing him with as much force as I could. He returned it immediately, forcing his tongue between my lips and plundering my mouth, bruising my lips with the strength of it.

I backed away when I couldn't breathe any longer, and rested my forehead against his chin.

"Go away," he whispered, "and come back."

With a shudder of physical effort, he detached himself from me and walked back to his desk. I watched for a moment, hypnotized, but breathed in sharply to control myself.

I resettled my bag on my shoulder, and left.

_

* * *

_

And voila- here it is. Not as smutty (perhaps) as I had promised, but ya know what? The chapter was getting too long.

_J Please feel free to review (a lot XD) and tell me EXACTLY what you thought about this. I'm a bit concerned about some areas- if you catch any mistakes please tell me. This is an un'beta'd fic, so I pretty much rely on you guys to be my beta's._

_Netrixie_


	5. Obsession

**Disclaimer:** If J.K. Rowling ever took this long to post the next installment of her books, there would be riots.

**Beta: **Not this time, sorry.

**Title: **Obsession

**Authours Note: **I don't think that I can apologise for the long wait, because I'm fairly certain it will happen again. But that being said, please enjoy, and remember- reviews that tell me to get my ass in gear actually work…

**Chapter Quote: **"And even as I shifted uneasily and the silence began to overwhelm me, onyx eyes watched my every move." SSHP. Snarry. Slash.

* * *

Time could not move fast enough for me. I hated that I had to stay away from Snape. I wanted to go back to him right now, and yet… I couldn't. I _would _wait till dinner was over, and I _would _do something with Ron and Hermione to let them know I wasn't too annoyed with them, and then I would go.

I shivered in anticipation at the thought.

"You alright, Harry?"

I looked up from my food at Ron's question, caught out. "Yeah. Why?" The other Gryffindor shrugged uneasily.

"Oh, cuz, you know… you _were_ acting a little… off… in Potions today." Ron rubbed the back of his neck embarrassedly. "Just wondering."

Even as I struggled not to laugh at the sight Ron made, I was touched that he cared enough to ask. Hermione looked up from her food as well, eyes concerned. They waited for my answer.

I took my time giving it to them. I found- suddenly- that I didn't want to lie to them. I wanted to tell them the truth. But it was not something I could easily say. For a moment, I wondered what their reactions would be. Disgust, almost certainly. Worry that I was being manipulated? Oh, definitely.

I sighed.

"Listen, guys. I'm sorry that I've been in such a shitty mood recently." I reflected briefly that that was a major understatement. "But I've had a few… realizations… about myself that have pretty much come as a shock." I shrugged- that was all I was prepared to tell them. Fortunately it was enough for Ron, and even though Hermione looked like she wanted to know more, she knew when to stop digging.

"Well, you know we're always here for you, Harry," Hermione offered, setting down her fork and leaning forward, "Whenever you're ready to tell us more, we'll be here."

I smiled in thanks, and covered her hand with mine. Sometimes, I truly didn't deserve these two as friends.

* * *

I stared at the chessboard intently, wondering how the _hell_ Ron was going to win in three moves when I _knew_ that I had blocked him at every turn. Hermione hovered over my shoulder, hand covering her mouth to stifle her laughter as I muttered to myself, calling Ron all sorts of names even as I shook my head at his uncanny chess skills.

"Ah, dammit. I give up," I grouched, and tipped my King over onto his side in defeat. Ron snickered as my pieces insulted me- _again_- and we began to put them away in a companionable silence.

Which I had to break.

"You've got be cheating somehow," I groused, glaring at Ron as he wrapped up the cleaning. He snorted, ignoring me easily with an air of long suffering, and I slumped onto the couch across from Hermione as Ron ran the game back up to his trunk.

"I don't get it, 'Mione." I whined, giving the muggleborn witch my best puppy dog eyes ever. "How does he always win?""Maybe it's because I actually use my brain for the game, instead of thinking that brute force is going to do the trick." Ron shot back as he thunked onto the chair next to Hermione. "Maybe you should try that sometime, see how it works for you." He grinned at me as he dodged the punch I threw at him lazily, and sat back with a smile.

"Boys, boys," Hermione scolded, hiding her own smile behind a mask of seriousness, "play nice now." We just laughed at her, and she discarded the mask easily, settling back into her own chair and staring into the fire. The three of us stayed silent for a long while, just enjoying the sound of the fire and the bubble of silence that usually surrounded us.

"Hey guys," Ginny said, sliding into the seat on the couch next to me and slinging her bag off of her shoulder and onto the floor, "Are you going to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Hermione and Ron gave each other a _look_- a look no one else needed to understand. I felt my heart warm up as I watched them, wondering what I had done to deserve two friends who loved each other as much as they loved me. Of course their answer was yes- they were going together, after all, though they had invited me to join them earlier.

Ginny turned to me, and I shrugged when I noticed her interested gaze. "I have no clue," I told her honestly, shrugging once more before looking away. "It depends."

I went back to watching the fire- not caring that I was being rude- and semi-listening to Ron and Hermione's whispered conversation. Ginny sat beside me still, almost as if she was waiting for something, but I had no intention of giving her any reason to think I was interested in going with her.

"Well," she said, standing awkwardly and grabbing her bag up from the floor, "if you end up being free this weekend, let me know, and maybe we can hang out." I sent a vague smile in her direction, steadfastly looking at the fire, and waited. With a sigh that I was probably meant to hear, she left.

When I looked up, Hermione and Ron were staring at me, the most amusing expressions on their faces. "What?" I asked defensively, and they hurriedly shook their heads and looked away.

I knew what they were thinking, of course, but I didn't care. Ginny had no chance with me, and the sooner she realised that, the better. Speaking of… I conjured the time, and stood.

"I'll see you guys later, kay?"

Hermione's head shot up from the potions text she had retrieved from somewhere, and stared at me, worried. "Harry, it's late. Please don't get caught after hours."

Ron, predictably, smiled and said, "Have fun. Don't get caught." He ducked Hermione's smack with the ease of long practice.

I left the two of them with a smile on my face, and as soon as I was out of the Tower and out of sight, I Summoned my Cloak and swirled it over my body.

* * *

"Come," that dark silky voice called after I knocked, and I slipped inside the office, shedding my Cloak as I did so. Snape was behind his desk- not surprisingly- marking his endless papers, but he set them aside at my appearance. With his hands folded in front of him on the desk, he regarded me with calm eyes.

"Hello, Harry," he said as I made my way over to him, his eyes watching me closely. I rounded the desk and stopped next to his chair, and his head tilted slightly to follow me. "I see you escaped the clutches of the other Gryffindors." His sneer was nothing more than habitual this time, and we both knew it.

I chuckled at his comment, and leaned my hip against the edge of the desk, hooking my thumbs in the belt loops of my jeans. Snape's eyes followed my hands, and for a moment I thought he was going to loose control right there in his office. But my hopes were dashed a moment later when he rose and began to organise his desk. I stayed where I was, forcing him to go around me every time he needed to move something, and every time he came near me I thought his iron will would break.

But Snape succeeded in ignoring me, and once he was finished he walked to a different door- one I hadn't seen before. But then, I was beginning to notice that a lot of things connected to Snape seemed to vanish and reappear at the right moments.

I followed him through to the other side, feeling a little like Alice as she entered the rabbits hole, even though I had seen bits of it before. We appeared on the opposite side of the room I had been in last- I supposed it was his living room/common room area. This time I looked around in interest, taking in the paintings and the decorations- the warm browns and the dark greens- all suited to him perfectly.

I wondered what the rest of his apartment would look like… and then I wondered if I would ever find out. What had happened earlier in the day seemed so far away right now, when he was standing by a chair that I had not yet noticed, his robes draped across the back of it, looking at me with blank eyes that nevertheless could see into my soul.

I sat gingerly down on the edge of one of the couches, wondering at what would happen next. My eyes scanned the room nervously, committing to memory the details of this place, my mind uneasily coming up with the endless possibilities of what could happen here. And even as I shifted uneasily and the silence began to overwhelm me, onyx eyes watched my every move.

"Why are you here, Harry?" And his voice was deep, and slow.

I started at the sound, and my eyes snapped to his from their perusal of the portrait over the mantelpiece. And as his words registered, I frowned. What was phrased a question was spoken as a statement, and my answer froze on the tip of my tongue, paralyzed by my indecision.

Surely he knew why I was here? I had not been mistaken in coming here… Had I? But he had been so clear earlier- "Go away, and come back."

I squared my shoulders.

"Because you told me to." I paused, uncertainty filling me as he stiffened, but spoke again anyway. "Because I want be here."

The silence that filled the room was deeper than I had ever felt before, something that I had never even heard of before- a silence that sank into my very bones and filled me with something I could not name. It stretched around us, feeling every strand of my hair and every centimeter of my skin, sinking into the very fabric of the couches and dampening the flickering of the candlelight.

I shifted on the edge of the couch, then stood abruptly, and the silence that had been suffocation us broke into a thousand pieces, and dissolved, leaving us. Only us.

Snape just watched me as I walked towards him, slowly- giving him time to stop me if that was what he wanted. But he let me come towards him, and in moments I was mere inches away.

He stared at me, those jet black eyes seeing farther into my soul than anything else ever could, searching for something in the green depths of my own, most likely reading every thought that I had entertained since walking away from him after our last… meeting. His eyes flickered and I tilted my head in question, wondering what was going on inside of his brilliant mind.

But his hand rose, slowly, as though giving _me_ time to run. But I was far beyond that, now, and when his long fingered, elegant hand cupped my chin I leaned into it. He watched me, I knew, even as I closed my eyes against the feel of his skin on mine. His fingers stroked me, the tips just barely touching my cheek, stroking my eyes, caressing my lips.

Without thought my mouth opened, my breath brushing against his skin and he froze, shivers racing down my spine at the gentleness of his touches. We were caught, neither willing to move- to break the suddenness of the spell that had been woven around us. I licked my dry lips, and as my tongue flickered out to wet them it touched the very tip of his finger.

The taste of him- so compelling, so exotic.

Forbidden.

I moaned, deep in the back of my throat.

Snape's hand gripped my hair hard enough for tears, his lips bruising mine with the force of his need, his mouth devouring me and everything I was. And I gave everything to him, willingly, for that was the only way we could have each other.

We were need, and desire, and passion, bound up into frail human bodies that trembled at the merest touch. His hand and our lips were the only things that connected us at this moment, but I needed more. I'd always need more. I closed the gap between us in a single, short step, tilting my head as I went, opening myself up for him. Only him.

I knew the second when his control broke, when all that he had been suppressing inside of himself tore free. Snape's lips ripped away from mine and left me panting for air, his free hand tearing my shirt from my shoulders and biting down on my neck. I gasped as his teeth bit into a bruise from earlier, and with a moaned word I removed the glamour from myself. My neck throbbed from the pain of the bite, even as my body flushed with desire for the man doing that to me.

Snape hissed softly against my skin as the purple and blue marks reappeared, the sound burning through my veins and igniting my blood. My hands rose to his waist, untucked his shirt, and gripped his smooth, cool flesh, my nails digging into him as my head fell back. Our bodies were flush together, touching everywhere, and the feel of his larger body against mine was almost as intoxicating as the taste of his lips.

He pulled away from me once more, his onyx eyes burning with need, and pushed me backwards. The back of my knees hit the edge of the couch, and I sat, dragging him down on top of me, glad in a distant part of my mind that he had already rid himself of his cumbersome robes. The length of his body pressed down against me- the hard ridge of a lean thigh parted my legs and shoved itself up against my eager cock.

Snape's shirt hung from him, the raw black silk only serving to showcase his pristine, snowy skin. The light of the fireplace flickered over us, casting shadows where none had been before, revealing tantalizing stretches of flesh. His hands were as busy as mine, exploring my body with a skill that left me breathless. I wrapped my legs around his waist- an uncomfortable position on such a narrow couch- but I needed the contact.

Snape ground his hips into me and I cried out at the sensation, gripping him even tighter between my thighs. He kept it up, pressing against me harder with every thrust, his hands pushing my shirt up to my collarbone, biting and licking my nipples, caressing and kneading my stomach with his fingers. I felt the strength in his hands, knew there would be bruises there later, and still arched my back, offering myself up to him.

I gasped as he bit my side, his teeth digging in and leaving marks that I knew would be there for days to come. He worried the skin, leaving his mark on me with lips and teeth and tongue, tasting and touching every part of me as he moved down my body. I knew I was flushed with my need for him- everywhere he held me my skin burned like a fire.

Snape reared back suddenly, his dark, burning eyes searing into my own, and untangled himself from my legs.

"What-?" I reached out to him, but aborted the motion swiftly. I laid back on the couch, using my elbows to prop me up as I watched him studying me, and let my body stay how he had left it. The silence in his living room thickened as I waited, frozen, wondering what was going on.

Snape let out a tiny breath- almost a sigh, but no, this was _Snape_- and came back towards me, unbuttoning his shirt and shedding it as he did. The black silk fluttered to the floor, drawing my attention for half a second- but he was kneeling next to me, and I tried to straighten up on the couch.

His hand held me in place, though, and my body went still before my mind could process what he wanted. His cool hands found the edge of my shirt- it had fallen to my waist when he had stood, and now his hands gathered it back up- and lifted it over my head, with little help from me. I could only watch as he set the cheap green tee shirt to the side, all without looking away from my eyes.

His hands went to the buckle of my belt, undoing it gracefully and sliding it through it's loops, the faint _shushing_ sound setting my already frantic nerves on fire. Snape undid the buttons on my trousers, his long elegant fingers ghosting over the material so softly I barely knew what he had done until he began to drag them down my legs. He stopped halfway, and swiftly untied both of my shoes before I could try to help, and slid my trousers the rest of the way off.

My heart jumped in my chest as Snape's dark eyes roved over my mostly- naked body, clad only in my- carefully chosen- Slytherin green pants. But he turned back towards me with a glint in his eye that I had never seen before, and my heart stuttered, then began to race again, faster than ever before. His dark lips claimed mine once more, and his tongue slid into my mouth with no warning- not that I wanted any. I could no more control the moan that escaped my throat than I could the fact that my hands were twined in his hair, holding onto him for dear life.

Snape pressed me back into the couch and I let him, pliant in his skillful, wandering hands. He somehow ended up back on top of me- and I don't know how he pulled that off without me noticing, though I admit I was distracted- and covered me with his entire body. My legs twined with his own, gripping onto him tightly so that he could not leave me again, pressing our bodies together in all the right places.

Snape left my mouth and I gasped in air, staring blankly at the ceiling that was all my eyes could see. His warm, wet mouth trailed down the side of my neck, covering the shoulder that had no marks with small little nips that sent waves of fire coursing through my veins, continuing to my neglected chest and roughly licking my nipples. Snape stayed there, torturing me with his mouth, switching to the opposite side whenever he deemed it time, and I writhed beneath him like a madman, trying to escape the sensations while at the same time helping him increase them.

He paused in his torment of my body after a time, and I wretched my eyes away from the ceiling to watch him. Obsidian eyes shone with dark satisfaction, and with a move too fast for my desire-heavy eyes to follow, Snape slid down my body until he was level with my pants.

I stared in shock at the sight- Professor Snape was _between my legs_- and a half-born, strangled little whimper tore its way out of my throat. I was not ready to see this- _Snape_ with his face half obscured by the- rather large- still-pants covered evidence that everything he had done to me had had an effect. I swallowed, and felt my eyes grow large as he dropped his eyes from mine to survey what was before him.

"Snape-" I squeaked, my voice as unsteady as if I'd just run a marathon, "what are you doing?" Which I thought was a pretty fair question, as it couldn't be possible that Snape was about to do what it looked like he was about to do. This was _Snape_.

His eyes shot back up to mine, and an absolutely _wicked_ smirk filled his face.

And in less time that I cared to think about, my pants had joined my shirt and jeans on the floor, and Snape was staring at my freed cock with hungry eyes that devoured every detail. I tried to scoot back, but hands as strong as iron held me in place.

Snape leaned forward and I watched, mesmerized, as he came ever closer, holding me still as my hips tried to shift nervously. His tongue emerged from between his lips, and even as my mind raced with _'oh Merlin he's actually going to do this',_ my eyes could not look away.

And when his tongue touched my cock, there was no way in the world that I would ever have been able to hold back the cry that erupted from my throat.

But Snape barely looked up at the sound, too focused on the task at hand to worry about anything else, tasting every inch of my throbbing dick as I thrashed beneath him, torn into pieces with this new- _fantastic_- sensation.

My hands wound themselves through his hair, holding on tightly as I gave up watching him and returned my gaze to the ceiling, eyes wide as I fought to control myself. But there was no way I was going to last, no way.

"Sn-snape!" I managed to cry out, only mangling his name a little with a groan that would not be swallowed, "I'm not- I'm not- _I can't_-" He must have understood what I was trying to say, because when the words left my mouth, he covered the head of my dick with his mouth, and _sucked_.

And the world exploded.

I screamed from the force of it, my eyes tearing up and my hands clenching in his hair hard enough that they hurt. Snape kept at it, sucking on me until there couldn't possibly be anything left, and then kept doing it. When he was done he released my limp cock with a soft pop, and sat up a little.

"Harry," his voice was soft, but I couldn't concentrate enough to gather the wits to look down at him. "Harry," his voice was firmer, more insistent, but I could hear the amusement underneath it all, and with an effort I glanced down at him through the haze of my orgasm.

"My hair." With a convulsive movement I let go of him, flinging my hands to the side of the couch, blushing that I had had to be reminded to let go of him. But he gathered my hands back up in one of his, and squeezed once, firmly, before letting them go once more. I sat up, scooting back along the couch until I hit the arm-only now feeling the softness of the fabric that supported my naked body, and looked back at Snape through my lashes.

He was sitting upright, one black-clad leg bent under the other, watching me. I felt flushed, my body lazy and sated, but filled with a nervousness that I knew came from being subject to his dark eyes. I bent my legs up in front of my chest, hiding my body from him, though he never looked away from my eyes.

For a moment, I wondered what would happened next.

But he took that choice away from me.

"Come here," he said, but it was a demand, and after a moment of hesitation, I crawled across the length of the couch until I was in front of him. And that was the longest distance I have ever had to go.

Snape reached out and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, tugging gently until I gave in and let him drag me into his lap. He pressed his back into the arm of the couch, turning so that he was at an angle, and pulled me even more firmly into the space between his legs. I was stiff while he rearranged me, even as he wrapped one arm around my shoulders and passed the other behind my legs.

Bu I relaxed, and shoved my head up under his chin, pressing my face into the warmth of his neck, and curled in towards him, splaying one hand over the hard expanse of his chest. His arms held me snugly as I got comfortable, caging me in and holding me captive.

But- curiously- it felt like home.

_

* * *

_

Hey, guys. So. This was very, very late, and I apologize for that. But here is the next chapter, so I hope you don't want to commit murder

too_ badly…_

_And chapters 1-4 have been edited- tiny changes, but still- so if you feel like checking those out, be my guest. Thanks for sticking with my slow as molasses updating schedule (updating? schedules? What are those? Lol)._

_Netrixie_


	6. Attention

**Disclaimer: **I own this awesome sweater and the tea in this cup (… I don't own the cup, unfortunately. It's rather cool), but I do not own Harry Potter.

**Beta: **Eh, not this time around.

**Title: **Attention

**Contrite Authours Note: **My apologies, really. For the longest time I thought that this story had ended with the last chapter… it has the feeling of an end. But recently I've realized that it is not, and that there is still more to be told of this. So here you are- two whole years later. Thank you all for sticking with me through my dry spell. Writing for the longest time had no place in my life. But I still love this story, and the reviews I still get on it (I do! You all still find this and love it and it amazes me) tell me that more will be appreciated. So without further ado, I present…

**Chapter Quote: ** "I fall into his lap. And he catches me."

* * *

Hermione shoves me out of the Tower, my book bag hanging from her hand, an annoyed expression on her face. "It is all well and good to wander after curfew Harry, but I will hide your Cloak the next time you pull something like this!"

I grab my bag from her hand, and hug her as hard as I can.

"I love you too, Mione," and laugh as she reaches out and slaps the back of my head. Ron just chuckles, and shakes his head at me.

"You should know better by now, Harry," he says as we jog to the Great Hall, hopefully in time to catch the last minutes of breakfast, "never be in range of Mione when she's in this mood!"

Hermione reached over and punched Ron in the upper arm, much harder than she had hit me, and glared. "Follow your own advice then, wise one."

Ron clutched his shoulder and pouted at the other Gryffindor, even as I laughed loudly at the scene. "Don't laugh, Harry you traitor!" Ron let out a chuckle, and a slight smile even appeared on Hermione's face. "You got me into this!"

"Your own big mouth did that and you know it Ron," I said, still laughing. We slow to a walk as we come to the Great Hall, and I cast a swift _Tempus._ "And look, more than enough time to eat and catch our breath before class." I grin at Ron even as Hermione once more starts yelling.

"_Five minutes! Harry Potter I am going to hit you for real this time!"_

I keep my chuckles to myself this time, knowing that right now was truly not the best time to tempt Mione into more violence. As I load up my plate, I catch myself deliberately _not_ looking up at the Staff Table. I freeze for just a second, and wonder why. I take a shallow breath and hold it before letting it out gustily. I _will_ look, unfounded fears be damned.

But Snape is not looking at me- he appears to be in a conversation with McGonagall. I sigh slightly, shaking my head at myself for even bothering to look. He wouldn't be looking at me all the time, I knew this. He _shouldn't_ be looking at me _any_ of the time… Of course, as we begin to finish up our meal and grab our bags from the floor, I looked up again.

And this time, he is looking back.

I see nothing in his expression- his eyes look to be as blank and emotionless as usual- but a knot unravels inside of me and I exhale in relief. I don't know why it was so important for me to meet his eyes in that moment- after all; it is his class we are on our way to- but I can breathe easy now.

"Harry, why is Snape looking like he wants to murder you?" Ron hisses under his breath, and I hold back both the smile and the chuckle that want to come out. Some things never changed.

"I have no idea," I whisper back, glancing up at the Staff Table once more, quickly- and sure enough, Snape was now glaring at the three of us. "Let's not be late to his class." I suggest, and Ron swiftly agrees, probably thinking that Snape will have something dire planned for us it we were even once second late.

But it turned out that being on time was not necessary, as Snape left us to wait in the hall outside of his classroom for almost fifteen minutes. The students milled around uneasily, wondering in whispers what could be taking the Professor so long to get here. Hermione, Ron, and I stood off to the side, a little bit away from the rest of the Gryffindors, frowns on all of our faces.

"It's most likely Order business," Hermione finally stated, tapping her fingers against the strap of her bag. "Professor Snape was speaking to both Professor McGonagall and the Headmaster at breakfast this morning." I peered at her in surprise- she watched Snape? For a brief, brief moment I wondered if she had seen the way he sometimes looks at me.

"Well…" Ron frowned. "I guess that might be right, but…" he trailed off again, and looked at me and Hermione pointedly. It took a second to figure out what he was not saying, but at Hermione's low gasp I understood. A frown twisted my lips, and the three of us shared a look. If Snape had been Called… I shook my head.

"Well, I guess we'll learn sooner or later." I slanted my eyes over towards the Slytherins, who had gathered on the opposite side of the hallway. Draco looked less than amused by the wait, but not worried, and I felt my shoulders relax. If there was anyone who knew when something was going on, it was Malfoy.

And mere moments later, the door to the classroom was thrown open with magic, banging against the wall as Snape swept up the hallway, a truly vicious glare resting on his face. "Inside," he hissed as he moved past the massed students, and we hurried to obey. Hermione, Ron, and I shared brief, relieved looks as he took his place behind his desk. At least our fear had not been the cause of his lateness.

"Wands away," Snape intoned, "quills out. You have a quiz."

Hermione gaped at the Professor in horror, frozen in the act of putting her wand away. I choked back a laugh at her expression, and fiddled with my quill as I waited for the parchment to float to my desk.

* * *

"Your time is up." Our parchments floated out from under our quills, drawing an indignant gasp from Hermione- who had no doubt been in the middle of a sentence. "Now get out." We all froze at our desks, and Ron cast a quick, suspicious _Tempus_ under his desk. Even my eyes widened in surprise; _Snape_, letting us out twenty minutes early?

"If you are waiting for an engraved invitation, you will not get it. You have less than one minute to clear out, or I will hold you here to clean the First Years cauldrons." Snape's acidic threat snapped us out of our shock, and the class about tripped over themselves trying to get out. "Not you, Potter," Snape added, distaste clear in his tone. "Stay behind."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at me but I shook my head- it wouldn't be necessary for them to wait for me. Merlin only knew what I did this time, though. "Good luck mate," Ron snorted, "Even I have no idea what you did to deserve it."

"Oi, thanks." I rolled my eyes. "Now get out or you'll be late for McGonagall too." Hermione caught Ron's arm and dragged him after her. They were the last two out of the class, and the door shut with an ominous _bang_.

I turned slowly, wondering what I had done this time, but knowing that I actually hadn't done anything to deserve an after class talking-to. I heard and felt the locking spell _snick_ into place, and at the sound Snape leaned back in his chair.

"What did I do?" I heard myself ask, walking closer to him. Snape raised a brow at me as I closed the distance between us, resting my hip on the edge of his desk as I had before.

"Nothing. It is the Headmaster who has caused the issue this time." His expressionless midnight eyes looked me up and down slowly, and even though I tried to stop it, heat trailed through me everywhere his eyes touched.

"Is that so?" I asked, folding my arms across my chest, not missing the possessive flare that lit Snape's black eyes for just a second. "Why?"

"He has decided in his infinite wisdom-" the sneer that crossed the older man's face was a work of art, perfect in expressing his disdain, and heat surged through me at the sight- "that I should being to retrain you in Legilimency." I could not help the snort of disbelief that escaped me. Snape just looked at me, and I cocked my head to the side.

"And you will do this, or… what?" I wondered, and tensed as Snape broke eye contact.

"Or he will teach you."

I froze.

That would be… bad. Very bad.

My arms dropped to my sides as I tried to process this, and gripped the edge of his desk. My mind raced, imagining all the ways that Dumbledore teaching me could go horribly wrong. A long, elegant finger raised my chin, and I found myself looking once more into dark, dark eyes.

"He believes that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will be able to break into your mind and…" Snape hesitated, and I closed my eyes, knowing what he was about to say. "And cause a repeat of the events of your fifth year."

"Yes, well…" I trailed off, and Snape's full hand cupped my chin. I leaned into his touch, and sighed. "Shit."

* * *

"What did Snape need to talk to you about, Harry?" Hermione's question made me flinch, and she stopped walking completely to turn and face me. "Harry?" Her voice rose, and I grimaced.

"I'll tell you later, Mione, after classes." She narrowed her eyes at me, but Ron put his hand on her shoulder and spun her around to enter McGonagall's classroom. The day flew by in a blur- Lord knows I don't want to learn Legilimency again- although, maybe this time it would be different- we are different people. Two whole years have passed since Snape's last attempts to teach me this art and so, so much has changed.

But still, something inside me shivers at the thought, but I know I will have to agree. For Dumbledore to see what I have been doing- what _we_ have been doing- no. Snape will have to teach me, and I will just have to let it happen.

* * *

Hermione shoved me into the chair by the fireplace hours later, and slashes her wand with the _Muffilato_ spell on her lips. "What happened?" she demanded, ignoring the looks we were receiving from the rest of the House.

Ron settled on the couch across from me, and pulled Hermione down next to him, trying to get her to relax against his side. "Easy, Mione. He said he'll tell us, and he will. Just give him a second."

I smile gratefully a Ron, before taking a deep breath. "Dumbledore wants Snape to train me in Legilimeny and Occulmency again." Their silence was almost as startled as mine had been when Snape had told me, and a slight smile hit my lips.

"Is he _insane_?" Hermione hissed, leaning nearer to me. "Doesn't he remember what happened the last time Snape tried to teach you that?" Ron's sudden grin at Hermione makes me laugh- it has been a _long_ time since Hermione has referred to a teacher without 'Professor' before their names and it is a sign of how truly upset she is that she neglected to use the title.

"Well, apparently Dumbledore brought up Fifth Year…" I trail off, and the sudden looks of sympathy on my two friend's faces almost overwhelm me. "And even I have to admit that the man has a point with that." I put my head in my hands, and sighed. I felt Hermione's hand pat my hair, and I smiled up at her and Ron.

"At least," Ron began, tapping his lips with his forefinger, "at least you and Snape have worked out some of your differences." He glanced at me, unsure. "Right?"

"Yea…" I laugh unsteadily. "Some. If you can call it that."

Hermione shook her finger at the both of us, and frowned. "Well at least this time, we've learned more about the two arts, and can help you."

Ron looked at Hermione, confused. "We have?" She smacked his arm and glared.

"If you had read any of the books I've given you, Ronald, you would know what I'm talking about." He cowered behind his raised hands, and I laughed again, glad to have these two with me.

"Well, that's all he wanted to say to me. Apparently my lessons begin next Monday, so I have some time to prepare until then." Hermione looked up from her fight with Ron, and nodded.

"Alright. I will do what I can to help you get prepared before then." I nodded to her in thanks, and began to walk towards the Fat Lady's portrait. "Harry!" I turned at Ron's shout, and cocked my head at him.

"What?"

He laughed. "Get back _before_ breakfast this time, yeah?" I winked, and nodded.

"Yea, sure, of course mate." The sound of his laughter followed me out of the Tower and into the hallway, only cut off when the Fat Lady shut her frame.

I pulled my Cloak out of my pocket and swung it around myself, barely in time. Ginny and Lavender came around the corner moments later, and I pressed myself against the wall as they passed. I made to move on, but their conversation caught my attention.

Lavender laughed at Ginny, and brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Oh, Gin. You know Harry is clueless. You'd have to whack him over the head and tie him up to get his attention at all."

Ginny glared at her friend, and pushed her slightly. "Sometimes I don't think he even knows I exist." She said mournfully, running a hand through her hair.

My eyes widen slowly, until I think they are going to pop out of my head. Is this what I think it is…?

Ginny sighs, and glances at Lavender. "Think maybe Hermione can put in a good word for me?"

Lavender shrugged. "She's his best friend, can't hurt to ask." With that, they go inside the portrait. I just stand there for a moment, shocked by what I have just heard.

"It's rude to eavesdrop, Mr. Potter." The Fat Lady informs me, and I drop the hood of my cloak long enough so she can see me stick my tongue out at her.

"They said my name, it was fair game ma'am." She just shakes her head at me, and I walk away, still somewhat shaken by what I had seen.

But my feet walk purposely towards the dungeons, and I hope Snape is not busy. I need him right now- I need to feel him and have him surround me. Before I know it I am at the door to his classroom, holding my breath, wondering if I even have a reason to still be as nervous as I am. But I open the door and shut it behind me, and Snape looks up as I slide the Cloak off of my shoulders. My heart feels like it is going to beat out of my chest- memories of Fifth Year, Ginny's conversation, my encounter with Snape earlier today- these memories are swarming me, making it hard to breathe.

Onyx eyes watch as I stumble towards him. He sets aside his quill, stacks our quizzes to the side of the table, and pushes his chair back from the desk. I know he is in my mind, gleaning information from me, and I can see his eyes start to burn as he witnesses my memory of Ginny's conversation.

I fall into his lap.

And he catches me.

* * *

_And the continuation of this chapter is to follow shortly. Please let me know what you think._

_Net_


End file.
